Perspicacious Acumen of the Modern Day Poet

When it Starts to Rain

Waking up in the morning to another obscure day
When I look outside my window, I see nothing but dark grey.
These overtures have stained and placed in me a mood
As this gloom abounds, I fear my joy has been eschewed.

Upward I stare and strain to catch a glimpse
Or an indication that the heavens are about to mist.
Until I heard a little plunk, against my window pane
I smile softly for it won’t be long, until it starts to rain.

And down pours the rain to wash away all of my pain
And why do I feel this way, when it starts to rain?
There’s a sense of peace—
And a feeling of warmth
Amidst all of this fear
And all the things in life that I’ve missed
Doesn’t matter, when it starts to rain.

The storm moved in quickly much to my surprise
While the echoes of thunder roll as the forks of light arrive.
The water pours, as the sky storms -- with no end in sight
And I think of how this dreadful weather mirrors my turbulent life.

There’s a descent into madness, as the skies now turn black—
There’s a feeling of hopelessness knowing there’s no turning back.
While the wind it howls and batters my peace of mind
Against the backdrop of chaos, the rain will bring healing in due time.

And down pours the rain to wash away all of my pain
And why do I feel this way, when it starts to rain?
There’s a glimmer of hope
A meaning to life
When all else seems lost
And somehow life was worth the cost,
When it starts to rain.

-- Greg Butz
April 25, 2009

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Going into this poem, it had been a long, somewhat emotional day. I just sat down and typed a few words, and the rest of this poem came quite naturally. It had also been raining for the last week when I wrote this poem, so this was also a reflection of the weather and current mood outside as well as from the inside. I have another poem in my mind about the rain, but I'll write it another day. (Ah-hem, so I guess I'll save it for a "rainy day" heh heh).